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Reflections.	By : Wilde_Guess Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1060 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The “Harry Potter Universe” belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic Press, Warner Brothers, and others who are not me. This work is unpaid fanfiction, and I make no money from it.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1. The Journeys Begin
- 2-Chapter 2. Meetings.
- 1
- 2
Chapter 2. Meetings.

David took the last bite of his breakfast and chewed, being the last one of the six youth to finish their meal. As he chewed, he tilted his head just a bit to the side. After swallowing, he announced, “Twenty-seven, Uncle Rick. Got it?” After another moment’s silence he stated, “Uncle Frank, Howard Fry, Uncle William, Uncle Rick, Aunt Stacy, Aaron, Paul, and Christina are about to ring the doorbell.”

---DING-DONG—

Danny went and answered the door and admitted the four adults and three children David had just named. Proving that they had all been in the house at least once previously, they were removing their shoes at the door.

Howard Fry, Francisco Xavier “Frank” Floyd’s stable-master and chauffer, was a dark-skinned Black gentleman in his late 60s who was clean-shaven and completely bald. He was about five foot and eight inches tall, and weighed a trim 160 pounds.

Frank himself was an older version of John with duller red hair, and a hairline that was just starting to recede. Where John was wearing a Medal of Honor rosette in the lapel of his expertly tailored Hart Schaffner and Marx suit jacket, Frank was wearing a Silver Star rosette in his perfect Savile Row suit jacket. When he spoke, his voice resembled that of Alan Rickman, beyond having a noticeable but not objectionable southern drawl.

Frank was the head of House Floyd, a mostly magical family that lived entirely outside of the jurisdiction of the Magical Congress of the United States of America since the American Revolution. He was also the reputed head of the Floyd Crime Family. That family was involved in a number of illegal activities, but they were most infamous for making and selling illegal whiskey. Despite the government never being able to prove enough for even an indictment, not even for tax violations, he was believed by many to be one of the most dangerous men in the United States. They were not wrong.

William Clay Dvorak, PhD, was thirty-nine, but he looked to be in poor health, though his appearance didn’t quite belie just how ill he really was. He was still pale, gaunt, and looking prematurely aged. He stood five foot and ten inches tall, but had a slouch that was only partially caused by his cancer. His voice was masculine yet high for a man and somewhat raspy.

Rick Dvorak could pass as an identical twin to his younger brother, except that the younger brother had a lot of battle scars his clothing hid and was missing the lower half of his lower left leg. Rick was wearing a sport coat, expensive shirt and tie, and khaki trousers. His speaking voice resembled that of Ethan Peck.

Stacy Julia Rush Cook was just over thirty. She was five foot and five inches tall. She wore her 135 pounds gracefully despite having given birth to four children. Her hair and eyes were medium brown, and her complexion was pale but healthy. Her speaking voice was on the higher side of average with a slight Minnesota accent.

Aaron Russell and Paul Tarsus Kopchek were both of average height and weight for their ages, with brown hair and eyes that closely matched their mother. Both had light to moderate summer tans, since they played outside daily but hadn’t gone swimming routinely that summer. Aaron would turn nine on October 20th, where Paul had just turned five on the first. Their younger sister Christina Julia Kopchek was thirty-eight months old, and her coloring matched her closest siblings and mother. She was of normal size and weight for a thirty-eight-month-old girl, and smart for her age.

David had already stood up and started to approach the group. Aaron got ahead of the rest, and the two boys were almost instantly hugging each other, with David boosting Aaron slightly while the younger boy cried on the elder’s shoulder. It took a minute or two for Aaron to regain his composure, and for David to set him back on his feet.

Aaron asked David, “Will I ever get the David I had yesterday back?”

David assured his doppelganger’s third-birthday-present, who was now his third-birthday-present; “Uncle Frank’s already starting to figure out how we can do it, if we can. But my double is comforting the Aaron I had yesterday, so how could I do any less for you here and now? You are my beloved third-birthday-present, and nothing will ever change that, not even what Kopchek and his filthy brood and friends did to you, nor what the other me made you obey Kopchek in to try and protect you. Were it not for you here and now, I would be tracking that evil oxygen thief down, and I would Cruciate the whole lot of them ‘til their brains poured out of their assholes…”

David caught himself and reined his frayed temper and projected bloodlust back in. He also knew that Frank had drawn his wand. David moved clear of Aaron and drew his wand while willing himself invisible, casting magic into his eyes to better see Frank, and raised a shield spell wandlessly with his left hand, having only ever done the last of those tasks before.

Uncle and nephew remained facing each other at wand-point, with no one but them being able to see either of them. They faced each other for a full fifteen seconds that seemed like an eternity to everyone else in the room before Frank fully appeared with normal silver eyes and holstered his wand.

He told his nephew, “Stand down, David. I recognize that you are you, that you are no threat, and that you haven’t actually used that vile curse on anyone. I come in peace. And, don’t immerse yourself in the Dark Arts, no matter what, and especially not the Unforgivables. Using the Unforgivable Three corrodes your very soul, and will drive you to madness. Even with what I do, I’ve only cast the Cruciatus Curse once and the Imperius Curse three times. I regret all four times, despite spending my entire life in a business where the blood flows like wine.”

David became visible again with his shield lowered. He stood straight from his medium crouch and holstered his wand. David pronounced, “Smysl a síla, Uncle.”

Frank replied, “Synnwyr a chryfder, Nephew.”

After a moment’s silence, he enquired, “Where did you learn to use magic and to fight? You would only be old enough for Ilvermorny this year. And how the hell did you get an Olivanders Wand that no sane wandmaker would present to a kid? And how long have you been practicing the Mind Arts?”

David calmly informed his uncle, “My world had me living in interesting times. I was supposed to enter Hogwarts this year, since in my world Dad works for both the MaCUSA and US Embassy in London. Education-wise, I’m a solid third year in the core subjects except for Potions, where I’m mid to late second year. I’ve started studying Arithmancy and Runes, and I’ve read some Alchemy, beyond being tested and confirming that I can actually do Alchemy if I learn it. I’ve also concentrated heavily in combat spells and applications. I can cast every third-year charm, hex, curse, and transfiguration silently, plus other combat spells such as piercing and blasting hexes, and both the normal and communications versions of the Patronus Charm.”

“How did you get Albus Fucking Dumbledore to teach you that? Everyone knows that only the few people he taught that version of the Patronus can cast it” Frank asked in astonishment.

“I’ve met Headmaster Dumbledore. I’ve even found and examined the Hogwarts Royal Charter. But it was Remus Lupin who taught me the Adfero, though Dumbledore himself did teach Lupin. It’s still not an easy spell, and what ordinary Wizard or Witch even bothers with learning the Patronus, or even needs to?”

“Can you demonstrate it for me?” Uncle Frank asked.
In response, David drew his wand again, and the wand emitted a brief silver flash. A slivery translucent dragon appeared, being roughly the size of a German Shepherd. The dragon flew to Uncle Frank and announced in David’s voice, “Recte demonstrare possum, Patrue Franke. Estne haec satisfactio?”
Frank replied, “Benevolens, David, vel egregie.”
After David holstered his wand again, Frank asked, “Do you know your magical index? And what about the Mind Arts?”
David answered, “I tested a 3.8, but that was before I started using and training my magic. And I’ve barely started training in the Mind Arts. The ‘other you’ told me that I needed to, because I tend to project my emotions naturally, which he said was not always a good thing.
“We should probably test everyone in the house, including the Stocks. I’m pretty sure that none of the Cashes are magical, but they will of necessity know about it and be bound to the International Statute of Secrecy. And, they just might surprise me.”
Frank asked, “Do you know how to perform the test?”
“Only the ‘yes-no’ version, Uncle Frank.”
“Fair enough” Frank answered before drawing his wand. He tested David, who was a 4.1. He tested William, who by now was sitting on the end of the living room sofa closest to the door. William was no-Maj. He tested Rick next; he was a 3.5. He tested Stacy Cook next. Surprisingly, she was a 2.7. Christina, who was in Rick’s lap, was a 3.3, Paul and Aaron both tested to a 3.3 as well. John was just as potentially powerful as his next older brother, while Betty was no-Maj. Walking into the dining area, Frank tested Delilah and Debbie, who were both no-Maj. Michael tested to a 3.7, and Danny tested to a 3.5.
Frank asked, “Any surprises, David?”
“Not really. The Rick and Stacy Dvorak from my world died before the rest of us actually found out about magic, and Stacy was only two months pregnant with Christina. It was their deaths that inspired Dad to quit selling Cadillacs and get the translator job at the Embassy in London. He traded on the CBOT, but he wasn’t constantly making trades even though he made hundreds of millions after taxes and expenses on the trades he made. Once we moved to the UK he was able to do quite well on the London Stock Exchange too.”
--DING-DONG—
David was closest to the door, so he looked through the peephole. He opened the door and told Bill and Chris Cash, “Good morning, guys. We were actually going to need to call you to come over, so come in.”
The two fourteen-year-old boys entered the house, while David closed and locked the door behind them. Chris Cash, was the younger of the two boys. His fourteenth birthday would be the next day. He was five foot and five inches tall, and weighed 116 pounds. His hair was dirty-blond and his eyes were pale blue. His slightly older brother, who had turned fourteen the previous April, was the same weight but two inches taller. Bill’s eyes, like Chris’s, were a pale blue, but his hair was a wavy black. Bill resembled a fourteen-year-old Johnny Cash, because his family was actually related to the famous musician.
David told the two, “Listen up, speak only when spoken to for right now, and accept that absolutely everything you see and hear is real, and that you’ll really go to jail if you start rabbiting on ‘bout it. Uncle Frank, go ahead.”
Frank quickly tested Bill and Chris. Bill was a no-Maj, but Chris tested at a 2.2.
David told them, “Congratulations, Chris, you can do real Magic once you get a wand and go to school. And Bill, you don’t have magic, but you know the rest of us have got your back, and you can keep knowing about magic.
“Super short version, some jerk switched me around with the David Dvorak you guys knew yesterday, so I’m here, and we’re hoping that the David Dvorak you knew is in my place. The ‘world’ I came from is similar but not identical to the one you guys grew up in. Uncle Frank is here to help us figure out what happened, who did it, and hopefully how to un-do it. If we can’t undo it, then I’ll be glad to know you guys, and ‘your’ David will be happy in my world—but I’m sure both of us want to get back to the worlds where we came from.”
Frank announced, “John, before you bring the rest of the kids in from the garage or wherever you told them to go, there’s one more thing I need to test. Listen closely, and try to feel your magic with your ears if you can. “§§If you understand me, say your middle name, or your first middle name if you have more than one. If you can, try to answer sounding like me.§§” Most of the people in the room thought that Frank was just hissing, including Chris, Stacy, Paul, and Christina. Danny replied, “§§Andrew.§§” Michael answered, “§§Aaron.§§” Aaron answered, “§§Russell.§§” John answered, “§§Abner.§§” David answered, “§§John.§§” Rick wrapped things up by replying, “§§Christopher. So I guess I’m a Parselmouth?§§”
Frank explained, “If you just heard hissing like someone imitating a snake or an actual snake, that’s what you’re supposed to hear—unless you can speak the language of snakes, which is called Parseltongue. A Speaker is also called a Parselmouth. House Floyd went through great efforts to have multiple Parselmouths marry into the family so we could gain this language, which cannot be taught as a rule.
“Stacy, I’m guessing that when you gave Aaron to David for his ‘third birthday present,’ that between your magic and David’s that Aaron is now magically David’s son, and thus inherited all manner of Floyd Magics, including Parseltongue. They say that Albus Dumbledore, who is one of the most powerful and talented Wizards alive today can understand Parseltongue, but not speak it. Pixie can also speak it fluently, because she’s of Floyd blood.
“Outside of House Floyd or India, Parseltongue is almost insanely rare, especially in Europe. Parseltongue is also associated with Dark Magic in Europe because the most famous European family that had Parseltongues was the Gaunt Family. They descended from one of the four founders of Hogwarts, the first Magic School established outside of Asia after the fall of the Greek and Roman Magical schools to attacks by the Mongols, Huns, and Arabs.
“Beyond their descent from Salazar Slytherin, whose descendants frequently used and fell to Dark Magic, the Gaunts also descended from the only magical son of John of Gaunt, and are thus distant members of the UK Royal Family. They were also inbred as hell, frequently Dark Magic users, and were also often nuttier than a squirrel’s larder. Some of House Floyd’s ‘eccentricities’ can actually be traced to our having multiple Gaunt women and a few Gaunt men marry into the family—and we made every effort to only seek the ones who weren’t flat out nuts.
“A person can have some magic, but not enough to actively use. Such a person is called a ‘Squib.’ Not all Floyds have magic, though a fair majority of us do. Between Squibs and Magic users, not all of those are Parselmouths. But most Floyds who are magical or Squibs are also Parselmouths.
“We use Parseltongue to ask the snakes of the woods to leave us be while we leave them be, and also ask them to guard our stills for us. That’s just one of the many reasons we’ve had fewer troubles from the Revenue Man than most.”
Stacy asked, “If this Parseltongue stuff is passed down, then why does Aaron have it? Both Davids having it makes sense, since their father was a Floyd. But Aaron was Sam Kopchek’s son, not Ricardo Floyd’s.”
Frank answered, “It’s like I’ve just explained. When you decided to give your newborn second son to your firstborn son as his ‘third birthday present,’ you did a lot more than you thought. Since both David and you were magical, you made Aaron David’s son, and David freely accepted him as his son. So, since Aaron is magically David’s son, he has probably inherited all sorts of Floyd Family Magics. Believe it or not, Magic works that way, especially when the one being adopted is young and the one doing the adopting is powerful.
“Magical Adoption normally requires a very specific ritual to accomplish. But, the Magic of a toddler or a newborn can often surprise you, even if you think you know everything there is to know.”
Changing tacks, Frank asked, “Aaron, did you ever notice snakes ‘talking’ before today?”
Aaron told the room, “David ‘n’ I ‘noticed’ it for as long as I can remember. But he told me we both just had great imaginations and empathy for animals, so we never said anything ‘bout it. All they ever said to us was stuff like, “Don’t hurt me” or “I’m hungry,” so we didn’t bother trying to actually talk to them. It was a game just for the two of us, since Paul never understood ‘snake talk,’ and grownups usually don’t care about kids’ ‘make believe.’ ‘Sides, Mum was usually weird with David, and Kopchek was always an evil bastard to David, even before he started doing what he’s in jail for doing.”
Paul interrupted, “You two would always ‘hiss’ at each other when you didn’t want me to know what you were talking about. It made me mad that you guys §§had a made-up language I couldn’t figure out.§§
Aaron retorted, “§§Quit being bratty, Paul. We’re trying to figure out what happened to David, and if we’re going to get the David we had yesterday back.§§”
David told his two younger brothers, “§§Quit bickering, both of you. We’re all unhappy and scared, and you guys fighting will just make it worse. And congrats, Paul; you’ve just learned Parseltongue.§§”
He added in English, “Uncle Frank, you’ve just explained Aaron and “both versions” of me. But while “both mes” love Paul, he’s our brother, and the Paul here wasn’t my father’s son either. And, why is Aaron’s eye and hair color changed?”
True enough Aaron’s hair looked about the same as David’s, and his eyes were now silver. However, Paul’s hair was now more red than brown. Both he and Christina, whose hair was lighter and slightly reddish, now had silver eyes that they did not have prior to that moment.
Frank opined, “Aaron is easy enough to explain. The elevated “Family Magic” surrounding Aaron has caused him to take up the physical features David would have given him naturally.
“Paul and Christina are a slightly different affair. And no, David is not doing “this,” and neither am I. Rick, Stacy; what do the two of you feel about each other now? And Rick, how do you feel about Stacy’s three younger children.”
Stacy was still speechless with her younger three children rapidly changing before her.
Rick stated, “Stacy and I got married last Tuesday Morning. We didn’t want to make a fuss about it, so we just did it. And with all the other stuff that happened this week, we never found the right time to tell everybody.
“I’m also adopting Aaron, Paul, and Christina. Kopchek was only ever a ‘sperm donor’ to them. Even if Stacy and I get divorced, I’ll still be their Dad and Father for the rest of their lives, like both Stacy and I believe I should have been all along. Kopchek might try to fight it, but I’ve got better lawyers, so I should be able to send both Aaron and Paul back to school as Dvoraks and not Kopcheks. If I don’t, it won’t be for a lack of trying my hardest.”
Stacy added, “Other than being so inseparable that I couldn’t send David to kindergarten on time and had to send Aaron early, David and Aaron were always both really smart. David taught himself and Aaron both how to read, count, dress themselves, and tie their own shoes. And since we all moved in with Rick, Paul and Christina have both seemed to get ‘smarter’ and quicker to learn stuff, enough that I’ve noticed it. Rick has fallen in love with the kids, and they him; as have I.”
Frank asked the children, “Aaron, Paul, Christina; what do you feel about this?”
Aaron said sternly, “To the extent that I am not David Dvorak’s son, I am Rick Dvorak’s son; and I will ever be so. Samuel Christopher Kopchek Senior is dead and damned to me, and he is Inimicus Domourm Floyd, Dvorak, et Cook.”
Paul was even more clear. “Evilbad is no longer my Dad, or even a person. He is a thing, along with his thing brothers and friends. Let the Things be Destroyed, for he almost murdered both of my older brothers. My Dad is Rick Dvorak, and he’ll be my Dad forever.”
Christina opined, “Evilbad is Evilbad. Evilbad can go away. Daddy has me in his lap.”
Aaron added, “Let the Things be Destroyed. They have only brought sorrow to me and mine, for three generations. I ask Christ’s pardon and mercy for my own rage, but while I won’t pretend to deny His mercy to the Kopcheks, I am still too young and wonded to offer my own.”
David knew or at least sensed far more about what was actually happening than anyone else in the house. Yet, after thinking as quickly as he could in the mere moments he had, he decided that he could not stop what was taking place, and that his double would insist on what was taking place because of his own injuries.
So, David uttered, “Though they have not harmed my person, I cannot ask for mercy. Their sins unto three generations cry unto heaven for vengance. My son and siblings know not what they call down. I know, but while I will not call it down for my own satisfaction, I can not deny it for them or my double, may Christ forgive me. Let the Things be Destroyed.”
Stacy (now revealed to be Dvorak) added, “Samuel Christopher Kopchek Senior, Thomas Elliot Kopchek, and Robert John Kopchek have visited violence upon me and mine. Samuel has also alienated the love of a mother for their child, with the likely help of his brothers. They nearly ended the life of another of my sons. The Kopcheks’ sins cry unto heaven for vengance. Let the Things be Destroyed.”
Rick stated, “Enough. David, though you are still a boy, you are a Righteous Man. You need not demand vengance from the Lord. Stacy, you are my Helpmate, and I am your Champion. You bear no sin or guilt here. As your Father and Protector, I demand it. Their sins against me and mine cry unto heaven for vengance. Let the Things be Destroyed. If God has mercy unto their souls, I will not pretend to oppose the Lord. From me, they will receive only whatever mercy the Lord demands of me to receive His mercy, and no more. Sortes iactae sunt. Alea iacta est. Avada Kedavra.”
With those words spoken, the malign and opressive magic that had densely filled the room for the last minute departed for places unknown by many.
Frank exclaimed, “What the fuck, Ricardo! Do you realize what you’ve just done?”
“You asked me the same question when I was ten, Francisco. Sortes iactae sunt. Alea Iacta est. Quod factum est, factum est. I don’t think any of them will even get nosebleeds, though.”
“Uncle Rick, you don’t know nearly as much about Magic as you think you might. The Kopchek brothers will not be having a ‘good morning,’ and I will say no more in present company” David cautioned.
“David, I know full-well what I said and meant. For good or ill, Dominus providebit. Quod factum est, factum est.”
Chris Cash partially broke the mood by asking, “Grease-spots, David?”
“Got it in one, Chris. And while neither you or Bill ‘made it’ in my version of reality, I was ‘closer’ to you than Bill, though we all got along. While I can’t keep up the other David’s ‘social obligations,’ I don’t resent you for the obligations he and you shared. He needed what you shared far more than even you realized, much to my own sorrow.”
“Don’t repent of the sins of others, David. It’s not becomming, and it’ll do nobody no good. Your twin was grieveously wounded, and I provided what help I would, though through lust instead of insight. He in turn satisfied every imagining I ever thought to have. I’m not sure I helped him. I can only pray that I didn’t hurt him worse.”
“Chris, life asked you questions you couldn’t possibly answer. You did the best you could at the time. We’re good.”
Chris asked morbidly, “What happened to the ‘other me?’”
“Neither Bill or you ‘made it.’ But you were liked and loved all the days of your life, and both Bill and you were mourned and avenged, along with your parents. In my world, Tim was quite alive, though he missed the both of you, and probably will for the rest of his days.”
A knock was heard from the door separating the breezeway to the garage from the dining area. Pixie opened the door and came in. She told the group, “I listened in to the last few minutes. Beyond that, I’ve talked to the rest of us out here. We’re all convinced that David is who he says he is. He was our cousin and friend yesterday, he is our cousin and friend today, and he’ll be our cousin and friend tomorrow. May we come in from the garage? We’ll be sure not to overwhelm David.”
David suggested, “§§Tell them that unlike the other David, I won’t have ‘social obligations’ with any of them, but I won’t be judgmental or an asshole to them with their other ‘social obligations,’ please? Especially Max since he’ll be worried that I’m angry or scared of him ‘cause of his fight last May? And Chris is a pretty strong wizard, where Bill’s a no-Maj.§§
John added in English, “Bring them in, but remind them to be on their best behavior.”
“Got it” Pixie answered in English. A minute later, and the other six youth who had overnighted in the house returned from the garage.
David announced, “Beyond what I had Pixie pass on, we’re all good, if you’re good with me instead of the David you had yesterday. I didn’t do this, and I’m sure he didn’t, either. The rest of us are barely starting to figure stuff out. And don’t bother Aaron, Paul, and Christina with how they look. They look like they’re supposed to look, and that’s all that should need to be said.
“I’m going to say something. If you hear me say anything other than hissing, then answer back with the word I say. If you only hear hissing, don’t worry about it. And A.D. I’m sorry for your loss. I didn’t know your Sally, mom, and dad, but I knew their versions in my world, who were still alive yesterday. For whatever faults yours had, they were good people and the world is worse off for their loss. And Max? We are cool. I’m sure that the David you knew yesterday told you exactly where the two of you stood; and from what I understand, you were most of the way good as it was. Depending on how long it takes Uncle Frank and the rest of us to figure things out, he and you will get the rest of the way there. ”§§Sasquatch.§§”
Both fourteen-year-old Joseph Howard “Joe” Stock Junior and twelve-year-old Maxwell Taylor “Max” Stock heard only hissing. They were both brown-haired and brown-eyed with medium tans, and just smaller than average height and weight for their ages.
Andy Dvorak, the fourteen-year-old tall red-haired freckled silver-eyed former son of Frank Floyd replied, §§Sasquatch. And good on ya for the Parseltongue.§§
A.D. Dvorak, who was a slightly smaller and younger version of his cousin Danny down to the silver eyes answered, “Not a word, but not hissing either, it was kind of a crazy mix I couldn’t figure out. This that ‘snake talk’ stuff Pixie told us about?”
David replied, “Yes, and you might ‘finish’ waking up your Parseltongue before the end of the day today. Abner Dvorak was of Floyd blood, and you got your silver eyes from Grandma Dvorak.”
Tim Cash was a five-foot tall 95-pound almost twelve-year-old version of his older brother Bill. He asked, “Does this mean that if Princess sics snakes on me that you can talk them into just leaving?” Everyone laughed at that.
David told Tim, “I can ask them. Since I doubt Pixie knows how to command a snake and force it to do her bidding, it’ll probably just slither away anyway.”
Addressing the entire group, he told them, “We’ll also need Uncle Frank to test you for magic, to see if you’ve got it and how much if you do.”
Andy retorted, “Frank tested me at a 3.0 but Ilvermorny can still suck a dog’s ass. They were worse than grade school and Frank put together when they came by three years ago.”
Frank ignored his former son and tested the rest. Tim Cash was a no-Maj. A.D. was a 2.8. Joe Stock tested a 2.5, and Max tested a 2.7.
Frank remarked, “Joe, Max? Since Fiona is insane, I’d guess that she’s also what’s called a Hedge Obscurial. Having magic is very rare. Among Wizards and Witches, being a Hedge Obscurial is about the rarest magical malady there is. An Obscurial is a person who is severely emotionally injured and also fears and tries to suppress their magic. A Hedge Obscurial is similar, except major mental illness is also involved.
“The magical signature of a Hedge Obscurial can ‘hide’ the magical signatures of ‘normal’ Wizarding children. So, my guess here is that the MaCUSA agents who are supposed to scan for new-Maj Wizards and Witches found a Hedge Obscurial in a relatively small town with six Floyds also living there, and just quit looking. They probably falsified their paperwork too, since MaCUSA is supposed to institutionalize Hedge Obscurials for life at government expense as soon as they’re found. Since your father had her institutionalized, she’ll be moved to a MaCUSA Facility fairly quick.”
A.D. asked, “Some nut-job came ‘round the house two years ago gassing on about Magic, Sally and I weren’t allowed to listen in. Did my old Dad call you?”
Frank replied, “I’ve never hated your late father, or William either for that matter; we just really didn’t get along because they resented their mother bearing my father two sons in exchange for two sizeable chunks of money during the Second World War. Gas furnaces, refrigerators, and stoves weren’t any cheaper compared to a workingman’s wages in the mid ‘40s than they are today.
“Father gave your Grandmother Dvorak all that, and paid her mortgage off completely, and paid her property taxes in full after that, and had groceries paid for and delivered until Abner Senior came back from the war, while the war rationing was going on. Father did not violate rationing. The stove and refrigerator he gave your Grandmother Dvorak during the war were almost new extra ones we had. He also replaced those for your father now back in ’58.
“Anyway, we really didn’t get along, but we are family, and that’s important. Your late father actually called me and asked for help three times. The MaCUSA Wizards were the third time. The first time was when your Grandmother Dvorak sold your late father the ’65 Corvair four door she thought was hers and had her name on the title for it in ’67.”
Rick interrupted, “I didn’t buy it so she could give it to the Fl… to Junior. But it was her car, and I never said otherwise. You did pay me retail for it, I did thank you at the time, and I knew better with the ’67. What became of it, anyway?”
William injected, “Junior paid Mom ten percent over retail in cash. I know ‘cause I gave him a good chunk of the money. Since you were months if not weeks away from getting her the ’67 anyhow, we thought that would be good enough, since you’d have never got that good of a trade-in on it, even as nice as it was. Hannah couldn’t drive a two-stroke Saab to save her life, and it was either buy that Corvair or have her tear up both Junior’s and my Saabs. Junior traded it in on a new Saab for Hannah in ’76.”
Frank informed everyone, “I found out when Junior traded it in, in ’76. I bought it from the dealer and had it fully redone. Do you want it back?”
“Sure, Frank. How much?”
Frank named a number. Rick wrote a check and handed it to him. Rick asked Frank, “Can you have Howard drop it off at my place, please? I’ll probably just drive it to Morris and ‘pickle’ it along with the ’61 and the ’63, but who knows? I had a Cadillac master cylinder put on it in ’66, and Stacy might like it better than her Fleetwood.
Betty asked waspishly, “Do any of you actually sell cars when you don’t need them anymore?”
John told her, “I’ve only ever bought two cars and one motorcycle in my entire life. I sold the bike and the older car, but the titles must have bounced or something… And I noticed you’re still keeping your Chevette in your garage even while renting the place to Rick.”
Rick laughed, “No need to squabble. I’m sure she’s saving it for Saria, or something.”
“Something is right, though Saria will end up with it. They wouldn’t give me what I think the car was worth for a trade-in, and I won’t have the time to sell it myself. It’s a ’78 four door hatchback with only 22,000 miles, four-speed, every option except for the sunroof, plus cruise control, electric hatchback release, and a factory eight-track tape player. The guy who ordered it like that for his wife got served divorce papers the morning the car was ready to be picked up. Dad bought it for me that afternoon. It’ll do highway speeds eventually, and she won’t need a fast car at sixteen.”
Frank admitted, “I’m not much better. I’ve still got my ’46 Continental, my ’54 Cosmopolitan, my ’57 Mark II, my ’61 Continental, my ’70 Lehmann-Petersen Mark III four door, plus all of my International Pickups since they quit making them seven years ago.”
Aaron surprisingly opined, “If you’re getting Mom a car instead of the Cadillac without asking her what she wants, then why not a Maverick that isn’t rusted to hell and gone? She liked Kopchek’s ’71 a lot more that his Vega he usually made her drive. Or, quit bein’ cheap and get her a Grenada Wagon like the Captain got Ms. Sandy? It would be big enough inside while still bein’ easier for Mom to drive.”
Before Stacy Cook could get completely wound up at her son inviting her very new husband to buy her a new car, David added, “Aunt Stacy, we all know that the other David would have said that if he was here instead of me. And good on ya, Aaron. Miss Cook’s Chevette is probably a really nice car, but no way could Aunt Stacy deal with a car that small with four kids under the age of ten.
“And if you’re going to just have Uncle Rick get her a car instead of taking her on a date to pick out one she wants, Dad doesn’t sell Fords. But he does sell Buicks and Oldsmobiles, and a Century or Ciera Wagon with a V6 would get the job done nicely. That might be a good ‘date idea’ for Uncle Rick anyway.”
“What do you mean by four kids?” Stacy asked?
David answered, “I can sense souls if I try hard enough. Miss Cook is expecting, and so are you. You might be a week along. Congratulations to both Uncle Rick and you, by the way.”
Misinterpreting the look of unhappy resignation on Stacy’s face, Rick asked her, “I thought you wanted more kids, Stacy?”
Sighing, Stacy told Rick, “It’s not that! David has told me every single time I’ve gotten pregnant after having him. With Aaron, it was him pointing at my crotch and shouting ‘Baby! Baby!’ With Paul, it was me overhearing him explain to Aaron how ‘Mommy’s going to get all big like she has a baby growing in her belly, ‘cause she’ll have a baby growing in her belly!’ With Christina, it was Aaron asking, ‘You aren’t going to hit Sammy ‘cause you’re pregnant again, are you? He thinks you will.’ I didn’t hit David for that with Christina, and I shouldn’t have with Paul, either. He wasn’t ‘snooping’ or anything of the like. He just knew I was pregnant every time before I even suspected. Though with Christina, I just took it on faith that he knew, so I just went to the doctor and told him I was pregnant again. He doubted it until the office test came back positive.
“I want all of our kids, including the one we just found out about, and any more we might have. I just want to get pregnant at least once without David telling me before I even suspect, and maybe get to tell him that I’m pregnant is all.”
Getting things back on track, Frank inserted, “Back to me helping Junior. The third time was with the Wizards, and the first time was with the Corvair. The second time I probably saved Junior’s life. Junior and William had borrowed a lot of money from your Grandmother Dvorak, by having her take out a mortgage on the house in Coal City. Your Grandmother, your late father and Uncle William, and your Uncle Rick and I all thought that John had died in Vietnam and the house was your Grandmother Dvorak’s alone again. Junior and William were also making the mortgage payments to pay the mortgage back, along with paying your grandmother’s property taxes. So, she wasn’t in any danger of losing her house and being put out on the street.
“Your Uncle Carlos, however, had played around with the death notifications, along with John’s letters stating that he was still alive, which is why your Uncle Rick and I believed him dead. Your late father and Uncle William did not do anything of the like, even if your Dad thinks they did. However, when your grandmother’s attorney had tracked John down in a one-bedroom apartment in Bridgeport with two toddlers and no job, and convinced him that your Grandmother hadn’t disowned him for getting hurt the first time, and was dying, he made it to Coal City with both kids before the lawyer could make it back. Even though they barely talked to each other at the time, both John and Rick were convinced your late father and your Uncle William had done to your Grandmother exactly what your Uncle Carlos had done to Rick and me.
“Your Uncle Rick paid off all the debts and paid for the funeral, so John had his house back free-and-clear, even if it was somewhat run down. Rick paid all of that off before John could do anything else, so John wouldn’t notice when Rick gave your late father and Uncle William an ‘old school send-off’ just like he did when he was thirteen, and your Grandfather Hernando’s most feared enforcer. I had to sit on Rick for over a year.
“And this was in ‘late ’71 and early ’72, when Rick was completely sober while pretending to still be drunk and stoned all the time, and he was meaner than a cottonmouth with a backache. He was bound and determined to break every bone in both of their bodies, stuff them in one of their Swedish buzz-saws, sling-load it under one of his helicopters, and drop it from 10,000 feet into Memorial Stadium. We were making easy money selling weed in Champaign all day because we weren’t causing any trouble. But if we dumped two of their professors into the middle of their football stadium, that would have changed, and we’d never get it changed back.
“But we need to get back to why you called me out here in the first place. Our family magic teachers taught me while I was growing up. Carlos was a squib as well as a fuck-up. Joaquin barely started his lessons before he got polio and died. Dad wouldn’t even tell Rick about magic when he was the normal age to learn it, ‘cause his temper was so nasty, and if he’d learned the Unforgivable Three, he’d have retired from baseball. After he got back from the Army in ’63, I had to tell him. He might have learned about magic, but he never bothered to get a wand. Wilma was the first Floyd ever to take her OWLs and NEWTs, which are sort of like grade school and high school graduation exam for Wizards and Witches. She got all Os, which are the highest grades the way the Wizards write them. She took her OWLs right after I signed the Treaty for House Floyd in ’65, and she took her NEWTs in ’66.
“I know a fair bit about magic, and for what I don’t know myself, I know the people who do know, even Albus Dumbledore. What you’ve run into sounds like you’d picked up a Traveler’s Stone, which has also been called a Philosopher’s Moonstone. But those are pretty much just legends, not real life. Trying to create a real spell that would swap two people between two different dimensions probably isn’t Arithmantically impossible, but finding the variables, even if you found the base formula, isn’t something just any wizard could do. It’ll take me a day or two to fly out to the UK, meet with Dumbledore, and find out what he knows.
“And running to the UK actually isn’t a bother for me. I’m even looking into buying a house and car to keep near to London. On the magical side, our distilling is perfectly legal. While not many Brits or Europeans care for White Dog, they have been going nuts for our Easy Seven and Family Reserve. They’re so crazy for it that I boosted our distilling capacity twenty-fold starting back in ’65. It’s all the Family Reserve White Dog recipe now, and it all gets aged. I’m still making White Dog moonshine for sale here on the no-Maj side, but the aged whiskey is making me the serious money.
“And Rick, that’s why I was making so little money on the whiskey between ’65 and ’74. I was actually bleeding myself white with all the whiskey I cooked with your change-up on the Family Reserve recipe and putting it all up in the ricks, plus all the new and expanded ricks I had to set up to age it all. That’s also why I wasn’t making as much money on the weed as you thought I should be; I was moving the ‘extra’ profits on the weed, which was actually bringing in more than you thought it should, and filling in the gaping hole made by the whiskey. My personal side-hustle on moonshining rum, which was much bigger than even you thought, made up the rest until I started selling the Brit Wizards Easy Seven in ’74, when I could start putting money back into it. And while I’m not John, I was able to do well enough in the futures markets to make up enough of the rest to keep Rosie in the weeds. And you know the last thing that bitch wanted to make was good booze.”
After he finally quit laughing, Rick rejoined, “So that’s what you were doing with all the money! Not that I gave a care, since you were sticking it to the Queen. I padded the books just a little bit more in your favor with some of the ‘excess’ profits I was bringing in from the gambling and my weed sales, since the Queen couldn’t tell a pair of dice from birds of paradise, and Harley flunked every math class he took after grade school. I didn’t want to give her any more of an excuse to get out of the whiskey business.”
After the two men laughed a little more, Frank asked, “John, do Betty and you have your passports up-to-date? And you’ll need to get David a MaCUSA passport along with passports for any of the others you’ll need to bring along with you if Dumbledore needs to look at David in-person. While Dumbledore could certainly come out here, he would only do that if he had to see the house here. Since he’s also the Wizarding equivalent of the Speaker of the UK Parliament and UN Secretary-General, it’s much easier to meet with him at Hogwarts. He lives there full time, and if he isn’t actually running a meeting of their Parliament or UN General Assembly, you’ll find him most easily there, even in the summer.”
David added, “That’s how the Headmaster worked in my world too. By the way Uncle Frank, did they just finish up with a terrorist war on the magical side over there?”
Frank sobered up completely and replied, “Yeah. Some murderous terrorist malcontent who called himself ‘Lord Voldemort’ of all things, and even put up a half-assed Taboo Spell on his name was the lead troublemaker. The guy claimed to be a Parselmouth and a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but I doubt he was. The last of the Gaunts died off in the early ‘50s, but he got a life sentence to Azkaban Prison in ’43 for killing some wealthy no-Maj neighbors.
“Anyway, this ‘Voldemort’ fellow topped himself almost a year ago. He’d gone after a charms prodigy who placed a combination shield charm and booby-trap curse on her toddler son. Voldemort killed the husband, then the woman, and when he attempted to kill the toddler, the booby-trap vaporized him. The only things they found of him was scraps of his robes, his wand, and a light pink film on what walls and ceiling portions that weren’t blasted clean out of the woman’s house. The kid got a cut on his forehead, and was orphaned, but otherwise he was completely unharmed.
“Of course, most ordinary UK Wizards are pinheads, so they concluded that it was the fifteen-month-old kid and not the fully-grown new-Maj Witch and Charms Prodigy who solved their terrorist problem for them, so Dumbledore had to put the kid into hiding.”
David exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”
After waiting a moment in everyone’s stunned total silence, David explained, “It might have been Dumbledore who swapped me around. Dad, your double married Harry Potter’s Maternal Aunt. She got custody of Harry, and that Dumbledore put blood wards on the house to protect him. Harry Potter was the ‘curse anchor kid’ in my world, and I’m guessing that’s all the same here, too.
“In my world, Dumbledore was dead-certain that Voldemort was certainly not dead, and this Dumbledore might be thinking the same thing. But I don’t see how he would think that I could help. I’m a magically powerful kid from a magically powerful family who doesn’t have any relationship of any kind to Harry Potter here, and who doesn’t even live in the UK. Petunia Evans might not even be married. But whether she’s married or not, what can I do?”
Frank suggested, “You can start by not over-reacting. This might be Dumbledore here who made the switch. Or it could be a Voldemort supporter from your world who made the switch. Or, it could be something that has nothing to do with Harry Potter or Voldemort at all.
“In the meantime, get things situated with the rest of your family here, while I talk to Dumbledore and find out what’s going on. Are you musical, David?”
Saria answered for him, “He’s very musical, Uncle Frank. Why?”
Frank replied, “Since he’s here, he can fill in for the ‘other him’ with Michael’s band. Perhaps he can even write another song or two, and you can get that CBS executive to get the contract done and record an album.”
David suggested, “If we make it ‘big’ here, Uncle Frank, Dad and Uncle Rick will need you to help them protect our concert merchandise sales from outside chiselers, counterfeiters and such. You don’t get the big share of the concert gate until you have a reputation for filling the big venues. On your first album or few you barely get enough money to quench your thirst, and if you’re insanely lucky you are able to keep or quickly reclaim control of your own catalog. And even a big payday shrinks quickly with a band as big as ours.
“The merchandise is the only thing you can count on, and even that requires you to make it big in the first place. We got twenty percent of our first album, and we were damned lucky. It’s also gone platinum, and all of our original material has gone up the charts and stayed there. We filled Wembley and the Barbican, plus we got the BBC to broadcast the Barbican show. Our label was crying all the way to the bank, and it was our t-shirts and stuff we sold out of the parking lot that really paid off.
“If Dad, Uncle Rick, and you can get us paid for it, we’ll get you the hits. And we need to know what Dumbledore’s up to whether he had anything to do with the other David and me getting swapped around or not. If this stuff is as tricky as you’ve said, we’ll probably need his help to undo it anyway.”
Frank offered, “That should work for now, if John and Rick agree?”
John replied, “It’ll be a start. I’ll need to tell the Captain, his wife, and Holly DeVos since Chris is definitely magical, and both Joseph Senior and Teri Stock as well. This is especially true if there is any chance of our needing to send any of our kids to Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny. Where are those schools, anyway?”
Frank supplied, “Ilvermorny is located in Massachusetts, and Hogwarts is in Scotland. Both are normally boarding schools. House Floyd can train our own members including Branch Houses, but retainers are a grey area. I don’t know about ‘hedge academies’ in the United States, but they do have a few in the UK, and some of them are at least as good as Hogwarts while also being day schools so the students go home each night and on the weekends. I’ll make sure I get all the way up-to-date on that stuff as well, especially if David, or if all of us need to help the Potter boy for whatever reason.”
“Like a blood-oath, Uncle Frank?” David asked to clarify part of his own concerns.
After a few moments of dead-silence, Frank replied, “You really are Rick’s kid, David.”
“The ‘other Harry’ is my brother, so he’s Family” the newly-arrived almost twelve-year-old offered. “But Danny was the first to swear it. The rest of us swore too, since Harry is our brother. We are our brother’s keepers.”
After a moment of total silence, Frank offered, “And good on all of you. Family is important. Your brothers where you came from should be able to take care of Harry there, at least until we get the two of you switched back around. I will also make sure that Dumbledore is doing right by the Harry Potter here.”
Danny quickly inquired, “Uncle Frank, speaking of taking care of people, how are the Garcia-Martinezes doing?”
Five Hispanic boys had been falsely arrested and almost sent to adult prison because of police misconduct that was tied to a police report from when David and Max Stock had their encounter in the Forest Preserve. John and Rick Dvorak and Frank Floyd intervened on the boys’ behalf, and got them fully exonerated. However, the relationship between the boys and their family had been completely shattered by the incident. And even being actually innocent, they would not have been able to return to the prestigious public high school they had been attending. Forgiveness would not be coming any time soon if ever. The five boys would be educated at private schools as prestigious as the public one they had attended, plus graduating from college, plus having all of their needs provided for; by the Dvoraks and Floyds.
Frank informed the group, “That’s actually the good news this morning, or at least as good as it gets for them right now. They’re all no-Maj, by the way, so you can’t tell them about Magic. But they’ll be talking to some therapists this morning to start helping them put their lives back together.
“Olivero Garcia-Martinez, their grandfather, is well-off; but not so well-off that he can afford the loss of a car he owed $10,000 on and that his insurance company refuses to pay the claim for. I had my people track down the car loan and pay it off in full. I also sent him a replacement new Chrysler New Yorker Fifth Avenue Sedan loaded, with the license plates and Winnetka City Sticker paid and put on. We also sent in enough money to the IRS and Illinois Department of Revenue, along with giving him the necessary tax forms, so he won’t be paying any taxes out-of-pocket. He’ll likely get a larger tax refund next year rather than owing taxes. He’ll also still be able to sue Will County for stealing the old car, and his insurance company for not paying the claim, but he’s already been made whole.
“While the kids aren’t happy about it, I did tell them, and they know that their Grandfather has lost no money that can even remotely be blamed on the five of them. The car loan is paid in full, and the Grandfather has a replacement car free-and-clear.
“Olivero himself is a self-righteous ungrateful prick, but he took and kept the paperwork and the new car. He also had no idea that I’m fluent in Spanish. And since he’s a ‘rock-ribbed Republican civilian,’ he has absolutely no idea how close he came to getting a ‘free funeral.’” Francisco Floyd’s personal method of gangland execution typically involved embalming people alive, and leaving the victim “funeral-ready” in a quality but untraceable casket in a public place.
Getting back to leaving, Frank announced, “I’ll get things going. I’ll call you next Monday or Tuesday at the latest to let you know what I find out. You can get MaCUSA Passports at the Monadnock Building in Chicago. David will have to advise them that he is in possession of a Wand under House Floyd, and that he is also in possession of a Sakura wand under House Floyd. MaCUSA regulates Sakura and fruit cherry wands tighter than most other countries, and for damned good reason. The wand holster he’s using is regulated in the UK, but not in MaCUSA, so that should be fine.
“You should also have my lawyer’s business card. He’s not only a US no-Maj lawyer, he’s a MaCUSA lawyer, too. When you call him, tell him it’s about ‘green passport services.’ MaCUSA passports are green, where US Passports are normally blue. He should be able to answer any legal questions you have.
“For Betty or anyone else you might need to take to the UK that doesn’t have any magic, they need to get their US Passports, and get those stamped by MaCUSA. ‘Officially,’ MaCUSA does issue passports directly to no-Maj citizens with a legitimate continuing need-to-know about the Wizarding World and who are bound by the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. In reality, the MaCUSA no-Maj passports routinely malfunction, so you always get a US passport and get it stamped. Once you get it, you keep it with you at all times, to make sure some ‘flat-foot’ doesn’t Obliviate you while you’re out shopping, and some ill-behaved six-year-old witch has an accidental magic spell while throwing a temper-tantrum. While a MaCUSA Wizards' Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptitude Test Certificate, or MaC-W.O.M.B.A.T. Card is better than a passport at home, that also requires a test, and the test takes someone newly exposed to the Wizarding World a month or so of serious study to learn enough to pass it.”
David asked, “Will I legally be able to send you an Adfero if the Aurors come by for a visit? Three middle-aged siblings in three different county jails going on journeys of self-discovery in such a dramatic manner that the Obliviators have to be called in will certainly raise questions. The Aurors will quickly realize the prisoners have victims in common, including at least one covered by treaty. They will certainly stop by to see what’s going on at the least.
“The ‘Cry Unto Heaven’ ritual is actually a light ritual, and it’s in the Floyd Grimoires. It’s almost never used because it weighs the innocence and harm suffered by those performing the ritual against those who are targeted. If there is little difference, nothing happens. In extreme cases where those performing the ritual are judged by Magic to be more ‘evil’ than the target, the ritual backfires, and I’m sure you can guess how. But, unlike what some would claim, the ritual really isn’t all that fussy otherwise. It worked, and we both know it. So, we might have company later this afternoon.”
Frank assured David, “You should be able to cast an Adfero no-problem. Floyds may train their children in spell casting when they see fit. And, if they see you cast a spell known ‘only’ by Albus Dumbledore, then they’ll conclude that you’re learning Magic for a reason they best not question. But I gave Pixie a communications mirror that will work just as good without the Aurors asking questions that are none of their business in the first place. When she calls, I can Apparate here right away and deal with any Aurors that need to be assured.”
Frank and William stood, and they shook hands and such around the room before anticipating John showing them out. But then the doorbell rang.
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Reflections.